Her Savior
by khaleesiofmischief
Summary: The Magister was dead,Pam was saved.She hadn't been so intimate with Eric for a while, and now she seriously wondered why.Why had they deprived themselves of such pleasure?


Her Savior

By CortexiphanJunkie

Thanks everyone for your reviews and for adding my stories to your favorites! I really appreciate it! Don't forget to review this one!

Now that the Magister was dead, Pam felt a lot better. She hadn't cut his head off herself, but still. The bastard was gone.

Russell –King Russell, she reminded herself –offered her a ride home. She said no. King or not, she didn't really trust him. Even though she might have died without his help.

Anyway, she was glad she said no. Eric took her in his arms and carried her. And she forgot all about her body weakness. Now her problem was her heart. If she was alive, her heart would be beating in a crazy rhythm, threatening to jump out of her chest. Right at that moment, Pam believed that her heart might start beating again.

She supposed that Eric was running super vampire speed to her house. However, he carried her to _his _house –or, more accurately, his small Shreveport mansion. She hadn't been there for…she didn't remember for how long, but she definitely remembered the place and his bedroom.

Eric gently lay her on his king-sized bed, careful not to hurt her. She closed her eyes when the silk sheets touched her skin, when it felt like the mattress had been waiting for her.

"Are you okay?" he asked her for the second time that night. However, this time she was lying on his bed, he was sitting next to her feet, and there were no silver chains wrapped around her like snakes.

"Yeah, I'm fine", she answered and sat up.

"I'm sorry, Pam" , he said. He looked like am puppy, an adorable and innocent puppy that someone had just kicked.

"It's not your fault", she said, sensing that he was feeling guilty. "You saved me…again."

He nodded and looked a little better, but the feeling had not really gone away. It was still there, poisoning him. In his opinion, he had failed his progeny, failed to keep her, his only child, safe.

"Is there anything I can get you?" he asked.

She took her jacket off, shaking her head as a reply. "It hurts when it touches the wounds", she explained.

He took the jacket from her and left it at the end of the bed, not taking his eyes off her. He had been so worried about her that he hadn't actually realized what she was wearing from the waist up. It was a top in the same pattern of the jacket, but not much fabric had been used for it. It was more like a bra, revealing her belly to him, and he couldn't help but stare. The two of them had been lovers for many years, but they hadn't had sex for…he didn't remember for how long. And although Pam was hurt and probably tired, He wanted her, wanted to have her, ravish her until she was nothing but flesh and bones.

And then he remembered: Pam was hurt. He was about to bite his own wrist, when he came up with a better idea. He came closer, moving slowly, looking casual and seductive at the same time. Pam bit het lip.

"Feed, my child" he whispered in her ear.

She hesitated for about a second, but no more. She really wanted to take what Eric was offering. And she had always been unable to resist him.

She broke the skin of his neck with her fangs and started drinking. Eric's strong arms snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. She heard moaning quite a few times as she drank his red nectar, but she wasn't sure whether it was him, or her, or both.

When she was done, she licked the blood that stained him, cleaning him up. She hadn't been so intimate with Eric for a while now, and at that moment she seriously wondered why. Why had they deprived themselves of such pleasure?

Their bodies didn't move. They were practically glued to each other, and they didn't want that to change. Only their heads moved so that they could look at each other. They could feel each other's lust, desire.

They slowly stood up, their eyes locked, as if breaking that contact might lead to the end of the world. He kissed her hard until her soft lips were pink and swollen. She flung her arms around his neck and grinned. He tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her lips again, and it was stars exploding.

In one second, he took her tights and panties off and pinned her to the wall. She thought about taking her time, teasing him, because, judging from the way he sucked her neck, he needed her desperately. But the problem was that so did she.

She fumbled with his jeans, and he pressed her into the wall. The moment she freed his erection from its jean-clad prison, she wrapped her legs around him and sank down onto his cock.

Eric wasted no time. He started moving. He took her hard against the wall, making so many beautiful sounds –moans, groans, whimpers, even a meowl- escape her full lips. He kissed her lips, her neck, her chest like a man possessed. He didn't try to remove her top –he had another task at hand.

She dug her nails into his shoulders, feeling that she was close. He kissed her again, sucked gently on her tongue, and she tightened around his cock.

"Pamela" he sighed against her lips.

She threw her head back against the wall with a dull thump. She didn't give a damn. How could something as small and insignificant as hurting her head matter when Eric Northman, her Maker, her Viking God, was inside her?

He withdrew and grinned at her. He was not yet done with her. Besides, he knew, from personal experience, that she could take much more.

He took her top off, and she helped him out of his shirt. His eyes travelled the length of her, greedily soaking in her body –she was his, after all. She felt a spike of satisfaction run through her at the blatant heat in his eyes. His hand, in a teasingly slow pace, moved up to palm one breast. Her nipples hardened under his touch, and he groaned. He was going to take it slow this time.

He seized her lips in another brutal and insistent kiss. As they made their way toward the bed, she ran her hands over his body, mapping his muscular chest before digging in with building desperation. Muscles jumped under her palm as she explored. She moved to straddle him, and he held her hips, steadying her on his lap. He sucked at her neck, making her whimper low in her throat.

Her movements were equally confident, showing him that she was still the same: a woman no one could tame, a woman independent, a woman who loved him and was always ready to pleasure him.

She pressed his body closer to hers, letting his hardness rub against her belly. He cursed softly, and she brought her knees up. She rubbed her body against his once again, making him arch with a rough groan.

They knew just how to tease, play and get each other crazy.

He rolled them so they tumbled across the expanse of the bed, and his weight landed on top of her. She spread her legs, desperate and wanting, and her fingers trailed low across his hips while he positioned himself. He stared down at her with lust alone in his eyes.

And again, under the intensity of his gaze, she felt like her heart would beat again. Out of instinct or something, she actually breathed in and out a few times, shortly, her chest going up and down.

Eric noticed and lowered himself, closing his mouth over one nipple. Pam couldn't help but moan as Eric sucked at her breast with excitement. She buried one hand in his blond hair and licked her lips. Then, he bit her, and her grip on his hair tightened, and she gasped, and Eric had some of her blood. After a few seconds, he licked the wound he had created, cleaning her up as she had done for him, making her heal faster.

He captured her lips in a kiss that took shameless control of her. He grabbed his cock, guiding him to her entrance, although he knew the way all too well, he knew very well what to do with her.

He groaned, and that deep, rough sound merged with hers as he sank into her. She gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist, and the resulting thrust was all it took to force him into a movement.

They were moving together in a rhythm known only to them. They were moving together in a dance older than sin. And they knew a lot about sin.

Pleasure started to mount again as she lost herself to the sensation of his cock buried deep inside of her. It continued for a mindless time until one of his hands gripped her hips and tilted her pelvis aside, a different angle, and the shift in position shattered her control completely.

"ERIC!" she cried out, not giving a damn if the whole world had just heard her. This was their moment. She was his, and he was hers, her savior, her maker, her lover once again.

His thrusts grew frantic and erratic. He cursed her name back -"Pamela", not just "Pam", which made her feel special and loved- as she was now desperately seeking his own release. And they he was coming, grunting and panting until there was no more and he was boneless over her body. His chest fell above her, crushing her breasts, and he withdrew.

She welcomed his weight gladly. She stroked his hair as he planted lazy on her breasts. Then, he rolled over and pulled her in his arms. All her suffering was long forgotten at the feel of her savior.


End file.
